Tree Dodging
by PearlyJammer
Summary: Logan. Marie. Truck. UST. Windstorm. That about sums it up.


Title: Tree Dodging 

Author: Autumn 

E-mail: eddievedderismylife@hotmail.com 

Category: Stupid-fic 

Rating: R for some adult thoughts 

Archive Rights:  WRFA, Logan's Marie, Mutual Admiration, others just ask. 

Author's Notes: Marie POV 

Not Beta read.  Just another fic that is from me being pissed at the weather.  Tree Dodging is a real sport; the nation just doesn't know it yet.  This idea came to me when I was driving home from Missoula and nearly killed myself because trees were falling in the middle of the road and I had to swerve.  It's quite the adrenaline rush. 

Dedication: For Caroline, who siced Storm on Montana, and made it keep SNOWING!!! AHhhhhhhh! 

There are two pastimes that should really be taken up as national sports.  The first is Logan ogling.  If you've ever seen the man, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  He's buff, he's big, and he's sexy as sin.  The man is the reason that muscle tees and tight jeans were invented.  Now you might be asking yourself why Logan ogling should be a sport.  Duh.  Sitting next to the man and not jumping him requires a great deal of energy.  In fact being in the room with him and trying not too drool all over yourself is a damn challenge.  It's as exhausting as the Iron-Man competition. 

The second requires more of an explanation, so I'll have to give ya'll some background on this.  See, I grew up in a state that's as flat as a board, and not doesn't have that many climate changes.  Oh, Mississippi has its share of bad weather, but nothing like the Western United States in the late spring.  Logan took me there after he came back.  He'd only been gone for about nine weeks, and said he didn't want to find out about his past, when his future was right in front of him.  Ain't he sweet?  Anyway, Logan found out that while he was gone I'd joined the team and had gotten hurt on a mission.  Thanks to the "accident" I have super human strength, I can fly, I'm nearly invincible, and I learned how to control my skin.  The skin thing was an accident really.  I was trying to switch off the super strength because I pretty much broke anything I touched, something flipped in my head, and poof, I am no longer deadly by touch! 

Logan was pissed as hell when he found out what happened.  He almost tore the Professor a new one.  He didn't calm down until I nearly beat him across the head with the fact that I was the one who volunteered for the mission.  He let it go then, but he told me that he came back to see if I wanted to come back west with him.  I was finished with school, and feeling restless so I said sure. 

A few weeks into out travel we came to the northwest of the United States.  I was driving across Eastern Montana, which for the record looks exactly like North Dakota, when out of nowhere, a freak windstorm kicked up and I had to pull over onto the shoulder of the road.  Logan just cocked an eyebrow at me. 

"Why'd ya stop darlin?" 

"Logan, in case you suddenly went blind, there are TREES falling down in the middle of the road!." I said, shocked that he didn't seem to see that. 

"So?  Tree dodging is half the fun of driving through a big state." Logan said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Tree dodging?  Care to elaborate on that?" 

He sighed.  "It's not something you can really explain, just start driving and you'll pick it up." 

I sighed and started the truck.  Logan was in a playful mood; he gets like that when the weather is goofy.  He's a weird guy.  But he's MY weird guy. 

"Ya know Marie, you should wear your seatbelt." He said, echoing part of our first conversation. 

"Logan, I can't really be killed by much.  A damn seatbelt is just gonna get in the way.  I don't need one." 

"It'd make me feel better if you wore one." He said, and he had this ridiculous pouting look on his face.  It always makes it hard to keep from just stripping him naked and having a go at him. 

"No Logan.  If you want me to wear a seatbelt, then YOU can put it on me."  I knew he wouldn't do it.  Yippie for me, won another argument. 

Before I could relish in my victory, Logan reached around me.  He pulled the shoulder belt down, and dragged it all the way across my chest, and down my stomach.  He decided he didn't like the way the belt fit across my boobs, so he started fiddling with it. 

"Logan, what are you doing?" 

"Tryin' to get this thing to stay still." 

"Logan, you don't even have the belt, all you're doin' is grabbin at my chest." 

He snorted.  "It ain't my fault your breasts are so big I can't get this thing to stay." 

I was going to say something to the effect of "Stop it Logan," but I was kind of enjoying the attention.  Okay, I was REALLY enjoying it.  His right hand stayed anchored to my left breast, and his left hand slid down near my stomach.  He pulled the belt down until it was resting against my groin. 

"Now what are you doing?" 

"I read somewhere that a seatbelt is most effective if worn correctly, which is across the chest," he said as he trailed a hand across my breasts," and low on the groin.  It prevents the person wearing it from more serious injury." 

I stared at him. "Where the hell did you read that?" 

"Scooter's May addition of `Safety First!'." 

Apparently I was still staring at him with a shocked expression. 

"What?  The TV was out, and it was three in the mornin'. 

Watch the road Marie." 

I paid attention for about three seconds.  Then I realized Logan's hand had migrated back to my breast.  He was playing with my nipple.  "Logan, would you mind moving your hand?" 

"Why? Is it distracting darlin'?" he asked in an amused tone. 

"Yes it's distracting.  How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on driving when you're hand's pawin' all over me?!" 

"Yeah, you're right.  I'm sorry, I'll behave.  Here's a tree." 

Logan removed his hand, which was a good thing, cause I certainly would have crashed into the tree that literally flew out of nowhere.  It was amazing how quickly I could make that truck move, and how sharply I could swerve.  I guess it was a little too sharp, because Logan smacked his head against the windshield. 

"Fuck!  Nice turn Marie." 

"Logan, put your seatbelt on." 

"Put it on, for me." He shot back. 

One of the nice things I got from Carol is incredible flexibility.  I shifted my left leg over to the gas pedal and lifted my right leg into Logan's lap.  "Pull my boot off Logan." 

He winked at me, but didn't get a chance to say anything else as I swerved to dodge another tree and he gripped my foot.  He completed the task and removed my sock as well.  I stretched in over Logan and dragged it up his torso.  I grasped the belt between the first two toes. And pulled it downward.  My foot accidentally dropped into his crotch, and it accidentally rubbed against the hard-on Logan was sporting. 

"Oops. Sorry, my foot slipped." 

Logan just groaned and I deftly clicked the buckle into place.  Turned out to be just in time too, as I floored the pedal and swerved into the other lane to avoid a damn big falling tree.  The rest of the trip continued in much the same fashion, and eventually the storm subsided. 

"Hey darlin', you wanna pull over for the night?  There's a motel up ahead." 

"Why?  Are you tired Logan?" 

His dark eyes glittered, and he let them roam over my body. 

He even licked his lips.  "No, I can just think of another activity we could participate in.  But we'd probably be arrested for indecent exposure if we did it right here." 

"Sounds good to me sugar.  What do you have in mind?" 

"I wanna see how flexible you really are." 

I'm amending what I said earlier.  Although tree dodging should defiantly be a national sport, Logan ogling should be my own private pastime.  Yeah he's weird, but he's MINE.  And I wouldn't have it any other way. 


End file.
